


The Bargain

by alynwa



Category: Boston Legal
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denny has an episode that makes him rethink the promise he had Alan make to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was the sound of something hitting the floor and breaking that woke Alan from what had been a sound sleep.  The first thing he noticed immediately was that he was alone in his bed even though Denny was sleeping over that night.  “Denny?  Denny!”  When he didn’t get an answer, he jumped up and went to look for him.  When he looked in the bathroom, he heard a noise behind him.  Denny was in the living room staring at a broken lamp on the floor.  When Alan went to move toward him, Denny stepped back.  The look on his face was a combination of fear, panic and confusion.  It stopped Alan in his tracks.  

“Denny, are you alright?  What happened?  Are you hurt?”  The older man just continued to stare at Alan, wordlessly.  _What the hell?  It’s like he’s in shock,_ Alan thought as he took a deep breath then exhaled slowly to calm himself and started again, “It’s alright, Denny.  It’s just a lamp.  I’m glad you have your slippers on.  Come over here by me,” Alan said softly as he held out his hand and smiled encouragingly.  Denny hesitated for a few seconds, then gingerly stepped over the lamp and took the offered hand, all the while staring at Alan silently.  Alan decided the best thing to do was take Denny to the couch and sit.  Denny followed him in an almost childlike manner and allowed Alan to sit him on the couch.  Alan began to rub his back and say, “It’s OK, Denny.  You’re safe.  I’m here” over and over again.  The soothing tone he was using to speak to Denny was in direct contrast to the turmoil he was feeling.  _Omigod, he’s confused!  He’s having an episode!  What am I supposed to do?  Should I call for an ambulance?_ Just then, he saw the expression on Denny’s face change and somehow, he knew that Denny was back.  “Denny, what happened?”

Denny looked around the room then back at Alan.  He sighed shakily and gripped Alan’s hand.  “I, I’m not sure.  I wanted…something.  I can’t remember what.  I thought, I thought I _was somewhere else, Alan._   I don’t remember getting up or walking out of the bedroom and…” Denny’s face reddened and he took his free hand and rubbed his chin, “and, I was looking at you and _I didn’t know who you were!_   _I didn’t recognize this place!_ Oh Alan, it’s starting to happen!  I’m starting to lose my mind!”  A tear coursed its way down Denny’s cheek

. 

Alan tenderly wiped it away and said the first thing that came to him, “Denny, you were having a bad dream that caused you to sleepwalk.  It was probably my shouting that disoriented you.  Not to worry; I’ll schedule an appointment to see Dr. Forrester as soon as possible.  I’m sure there’s a logical explanation that has nothing to do with Mad Cow or Alzheimer’s.  Do you think you’re ready to come back to bed?”

Denny sat there not answering.  He let go of Alan’s hand, put his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands.  Alan’s heart was breaking for his best friend.  _I don’t know what to do or what to say,_ he thought, _so I’m just going to be here for him._ He leaned back, never taking his eyes off the older man and just waited.  _If we fall asleep out here, so be it._  

Finally, Denny uncovered his face and sat up straight.  He looked at Alan and smiled joylessly, “I’m sorry, Alan.”

 

Alan patted him on the back and said, “For what?  The lamp?  I don’t care about that thing!  I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

 

Denny turned his entire body to face Alan and it seemed to the younger man that Denny had aged noticeably in the last few minutes.  “Not that, Alan.  I scared you and I’m sorry.  This…” he waved his hand toward the broken lamp, “has made me realize that maybe I’ve been unfair to you.  I’ve allowed our friendship to become a rope that keeps you tied to me.”

 

Alan was appalled and stammered, “What, what are you saying?  That I shouldn’t be your friend?  Because, that is _so_ not happening!” 

“No, I don’t mean that.  I mean, I’ve put so much on you and I always assumed you would just do it.  I’ve been selfish; it’s a huge burden to be responsible for someone’s life _and_ his death.  Remember how offended I was when you refused to sign my medical proxy when Barry Gold gave it to you?  I was really very insensitive about how you would react; I just wanted you to sign the damn thing!  But, tonight I’m realizing, I can’t have you do this.  I know you love me and would do anything for me, but I love you too and I can’t put you through this.  It’s not fair.” 

Alan didn’t quite know what was going on so he said, “Denny, I’m not sure I understand what it is you’re trying to tell me.” 

Denny replied quietly, “Maybe instead of you shooting me, I should just do it myself and get it over with.”

Alan felt as if he had swallowed ice cubes whole.  He felt he was choking and chilled to the bone by what he had just heard.  What he saw in Denny’s face terrified him.  _He means what he’s saying!_ Aloud, he said, “Denny, you are making way, _way_ too much of this.  It was a bad dream. That’s all.  Let’s not pull my medical proxy or make any other life-changing decisions just yet.  Come on, let’s get some sleep.  I’m tying us together, too.” 

Denny looked at Alan and asked, “Afraid I’ll wander away, again?” 

The lie slid off the younger attorney’s tongue like water off a duck’s back, “Not at all.  I’m concerned that all this stress will give me night terrors and I’m in no mood to jump off my balcony tonight.” 

Denny was unconvinced but touched at his friend’s attempt to preserve his dignity.  He opted to play along.  “Fine,” he replied, “but, go to the bathroom now so you’re not trying to drag me around later.”

 

Shirley Schmidt was drinking coffee and perusing the morning paper when Alan knocked on her office door and stepped inside.  Shirley glanced up, removed her glasses and remarked, “Good morning.  You look mighty serious.”

 

Alan closed the door and sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk.  He leaned forward and said, “Shirley, I need your advice about Denny.  He scared me very badly last night and, I’m not sure what to do.”  He filled her in on what had transpired and how he had been so unnerved by it that he couldn’t fall back asleep, but had instead, lain there and watched Denny sleep until dawn.  “When I called Dr. Forrester this morning, I told him what Denny had said.  He said he will speak to me about this when we get to his office tomorrow morning.  What I want to know from you, Shirley, is: Do you think Denny is capable of killing himself?”

Shirley had been listening intently to what Alan was telling her.  She looked from Alan to some point on the far wall and then back at him.  She let out a long breath and responded, “There was a time when I would have said Denny was too vain, too egotistical and too self-important to ever consider doing himself harm, but now? With his mind going and him realizing it?  I honestly don’t know.  I just don’t know.  Do you want me to talk to him?”

 

Alan was chewing his bottom lip like it was lunch.  He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I guess it couldn’t hurt.  What he said to me last night is totally unacceptable.  Make him understand that.  Please, Shirley.”

 

When Shirley marched into Denny’s office, Denny looked up with resignation written all over his face.  “I was expecting you.  I take it Alan informed you about last night?”

 

Shirley walked around his desk until she was next to him, and then leaned against it with her arms folded and glared at him.  “Alan seems to think that you are considering committing suicide,” she stated as a matter of fact, “Are you?”

 

Denny sat back in his chair and sighed, “Is there any way I can get you to not have this conversation with me?”

 

Shirley shook her head and responded, “I want you to tell me what is going on with you.  Is Alan right?”

Denny stood up and went to look out the window overlooking the balcony.  After a few moments spent gathering his thoughts, he began to speak.  “Ever since last Thanksgiving, I’ve been thinking about my…my Mad Cow and how it has been affecting people around me, especially Alan.  I know I scared him.  I scared myself.  Shirley, _I didn’t recognize him._   There is no one closer to me in this world and I didn’t know who he was!  That forced me to look down the road, so to speak, at what lies ahead.  I saw your father, Shirley, it’s not pretty.  Alan promised he’d shoot me; I know he probably doesn’t mean literally, but even if he does, how can I expect him to do that?  I know better than most that the cold-hearted bastard he presents to the world protects the sensitive man he really is.  I don’t want to cause him unnecessary pain.  I admit that for just a little while, ending things on my own terms did hold some attraction for me, but I can’t do that.  I’m still Denny Crane!  And, Denny Crane is not a coward.”

Denny had not turned around while he was speaking, so he did not see Shirley relax when he said that he had rejected suicide as the answer to his Mad Cow problem.  She moved closer and hugged his arm.  “I’m glad to hear it.  Alan will be, too.  But if you don’t want Alan to be your medical proxy anymore, who _do_ you want?” 

Denny turned toward her and smiled weakly.  She gasped, “You don’t mean _me,_ do you?”

 

He looked stricken, “No!  Not at all, Shirley.  I don’t want to cause you any pain either.  _Carl,_ on the other hand, I don’t care about, but no, not him either.”

  

She let go of his arm and moved to stand in front of him.  “So, what exactly do you mean?” she asked.

 

“I’m thinking I don’t want a medical proxy, at all.  Remember what Milton Bombay did?”

 

Shirley stared at him in complete confusion.  She sputtered, “You, you want to try to get… _frozen_?”

 

Denny’s sad smile came back, “No,” he answered, “I’m going to retire and leave town.  For good.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Alan looked up from his work when Shirley walked into his office and sat down on the couch.  He stood up, buttoned his jacket and came to stand in front of her.  “Shirley?  What happened?”  When she didn’t answer immediately, he sat next to her and tried again, “What did he say, Shirley?  Did he talk about suicide?”

 

Shirley shook her head and responded, “No, no, he didn’t.  Well, he did, but only to say he’s decided against doing it.   He said, um, he said that he wants to retire and leave town.  He wants to do a Milton Bombay.”

Alan was totally flummoxed.  He asked, “Who is Milton Bombay and what did he do?”

 

Shirley steepled her fingers and replied, “He is, or by now, probably _was_ , an acquaintance of Denny’s.  They usually were on opposite sides of a case.  Anyway, he was dying of cancer and decided to move to Arizona so he wouldn’t be a burden to his family.  He left no forwarding address and as far as I know, he never contacted anyone here.  I assume he’s dead.” 

Alan listened to her speak with growing dread.  He glanced at his watch and remarked, “I have to get to court and I’ll be there all day.”  He stood up, went to his desk and picked up the phone.  He used the intercom and when Denny picked up, he said with a brightness he didn’t feel, “Hi.  I just wanted to let you know I’m off to court, so I’ll see you on the balcony later, OK?”  He listened for a moment, and then said, “Yes, she did.  Oh yes, we _will_ speak about this.  See you later.  Bye.”  After he hung up, he looked at Shirley, then used the intercom again to call the associate who acted as Denny’s assistant whenever he needed something researched.  “Mandy, it’s Alan.  I want you to call me immediately if Denny says he’s leaving for the day.”  He looked at Shirley, “Better safe than sorry,” he said.  

 

When he stepped off the CP&S elevator late that afternoon, Shirley was saying goodbye to a couple she was representing in a civil case.  Alan held the doors open and smiled as they thanked him then, when the doors closed he inquired of Shirley, “Have you spoken to Denny since this morning?”

 

Shirley started walking back to her office and he fell in step alongside her.  “Actually, I ate lunch with Denny in his office,” she answered, “Carl had to go meet a potential client so I was free.”

 

He followed her into her office and closed the door.  “And?” he asked, “How did he seem?”

Shirley began gathering her things together to leave and replied, “You know how Denny gets that look on his face when he’s made up his mind about something?”

 

Alan nodded, “I do.”

 

She reached for her coat, “He had that look on his face.  I didn’t mention our earlier talk and neither did he.  We just had a quiet meal.  I thought it would be better for you two to discuss this issue if I didn’t bring it up again and upset him.  Alan, I don’t envy you; this has to be hard.”  She pulled him into a one-armed hug and whispered into his ear, “Call me if you want to vent.”

 

He hugged her back and replied, “Thank you, Shirley.”  He walked her to the elevators, said good night, and then continued walking to Denny’s office.

Stepping into Denny’s office, Alan placed his coat and briefcase on the couch and walked to the bar.  He could see Denny sitting in his chair outside blowing smoke up into the early evening sky.  He knew he had been heard so he didn’t announce his presence as he poured himself two fingers of single malt.  He went to Denny’s desk and opened the left bottom drawer to reveal the humidor that contained Denny’s Cuban cigars that a grateful former client regularly shipped to him from Anguilla.  Grabbing one, he closed the drawer, cut the tip off using the cutter lying on the desk and went outside to join his friend.  Wordlessly, he settled himself into his chair, flicked the lighter he had picked up from the table on which he had set his glass and puffed on his cigar until he was satisfied it was properly lit.  He then took a sip of scotch that coursed warmly down his throat and made him appreciate the fact that court was over for the day and he was in the company of his best friend on a beautiful spring evening.  _This is delicious,_ he thought.

Denny, who had been watching Alan go through his balcony ritual, finally spoke, “What are you thinking, Alan?  For a moment, you had an almost beatific look on your face.”

 

Alan blew out a long stream of smoke and replied, “I _was_ feeling serene.  I enjoy being out here with you.  I enjoy your company more than any other person’s. That is why I was astonished to hear Shirley tell me about Milton Bombay and your desire to do what he did and just disappear from my life.”

 

Denny looked away from Alan and studied the darkening sky.  “It might be for the best, Alan,” he said softly.

Alan leaned forward and hissed, “’It might be for the best’ for _whom_ , Denny?  From what I gathered from Shirley, Bombay left town and no one cared.  That will never happen to you.  You have something Milton Bombay never had:  You have _me_.  Do you honestly believe that I would just go merrily on with my life while you slinked away like a dog to die alone?  You told me last night that you have been selfish.  What you asked of me, to be your medical proxy, is not selfish.  I, on the other hand, I am a _very_ selfish man, Denny.  I want what I want and I don’t give things up without a fight.  The time we share together on this balcony is a priceless gift to me.  This is the time I use to anchor myself to reality after the insanity of the day, to reaffirm for myself what my priorities are and where they lie.  Our age difference makes me fairly certain that we won’t have these times for as long as I want to so each one we _do_ have is precious to me.  Do you honestly think I would just let you wander off into the hinterlands and deprive me of something and someone I have come to depend on and love?  I may not have as much money as you do, but I’m _rich_ , Denny.  I would find you, no matter where you were and bring you home to Boston.  To _me_.”  Alan leaned back in his chair and smiled briefly to lighten the mood, “Do you have a problem with that, Mister?” 

Denny drained the last of his drink and started to get up to refill his glass.  Alan held up his hand to signal “Stop” and lifted the glass from Denny’s hand and took both glasses inside to replenish them.  When he stepped back outside, Denny was standing at the balcony’s edge.  After he accepted his glass back and swallowed more of his favorite alcoholic beverage, he made eye contact with Alan, cleared his throat and answered, “I guess I don’t have a problem with that.  It seems lately all I do is apologize to you, but I’m sorry, Alan, for not having faith in you or our friendship.  As usual, your closing ran a little long, but you’ve made your point.  I won’t run away from home.  I promise.”

 

Alan stuck out his right hand and said, “Shake on it, then.”

 

Denny looked at Alan’s hand and replied, “I’ll do better than that,” before raising his arms and embracing Alan warmly.  The two men stood that way for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts and grateful for the true friend he held in his arms.

Alan was the one who broke the clinch.  Wiping his eyes, he whispered, “Sleepover, Denny?”

 

Denny had turned away to hide his own emotions.  He grunted, “Sure, why not.”

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning at nine found Denny and Alan in Dr. Forrester’s office suite; Alan standing behind the doctor’s chair and Denny lying inside the MRI while the doctor asked Denny questions and looked at images of Denny’s brain on the screens in front of him.  When he was satisfied, he pushed the button that caused the cot to slide out of the tube and after Alan helped Denny down, Dr. Forrester told Denny to get dressed and meet them in his office.

“Mr. Shore, has Mr. Crane expressed any more thoughts regarding suicide?” he asked as they stepped through the doorway.

 

Alan sat down in the chair farthest from the door and answered, “No, actually, he now says that he will _not_ consider suicide as an option, so I’m feeling a lot better at the moment.”

 

The doctor made some notes in Denny’s file and then, looked at Alan.  “Mr. Shore,” he began, “you mentioned that Mr. Crane had also talked about taking his medical proxy away from you.”  Alan nodded.  “I’ll be frank with you.  I told you last time Mr. Crane was here he is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s.  That hasn’t changed.  The good news is it hasn’t progressed noticeably further than the last time I ran these tests; however, these… _episodes_ are going to happen more and more frequently, eventually lasting longer in duration until he never comes back.  Caring for an elderly person is hard work; caring for an elderly Alzheimer’s patient can be backbreaking, emotionally exhausting work.  Maybe you should consider taking Mr. Crane up on his suggestion and remove yourself from this situation before it worsens and begins to take a toll on you.”

Anger rose up in Alan like a riled up cobra.  He felt his pale skin flush with the emotion and he stared at Dr. Forrester long enough to make him look away nervously.  He breathed deeply twice to calm himself and when he felt he could speak without yelling, he retorted, “With all due respect, Doctor, you are paid handsomely to look after _Denny’s_ health, not mine.  Although I appreciate your concern, it is unwarranted.  Denny and I between us have more than enough money to avoid me breaking _my_ back and as for caring for him being ‘emotionally exhausting,’ well, so be it.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  He is my best friend and practically family.”

 

Dr. Forrester looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in front of the outraged middle aged man before him.  “I am sorry if you feel I’ve overstepped your boundaries, but I felt it needed to be put out there.”

 

Alan had composed himself to the point that he could now look at the doctor with his patented expression-free face that served him so well in court.  “Well, now that you have done so, there is no need to bring it up for discussion again,” Alan huffed.

 

Just then, Denny opened the door and entered.  “Sorry I took so long,” he said, “I walked into the wrong office and met the most lovely lab technician.  I think I’m in love.”

 

Alan smiled affectionately at him as Denny took his seat, “I’m very happy for you.  Good news, Denny!  Dr. Forrester said your test results are the same as last time!  I _told_ you it was a combination of bad dreams and me confusing you!  Nothing to worry about!  Isn’t that right, Doctor?”

 

Later on that evening, hours after the two friends had returned to the Crane Poole and Schmidt offices and resumed their usual routines; Alan went looking for Shirley and found her stretched out on the sofa in Carl Sack’s office.  The fact that her feet were being lovingly massaged by her fiancé did not deter him from entering and closing the door.  Carl looked at him reproachfully and said, “Well gee, Alan, come on in!  Nothing like a third wheel to add spice to an intimate moment.”

 

Alan swung a chair around to face them and sat down.  “I’ll be out of your way soon enough, Carl.  Shirley said I could come to her and vent if I wanted to and I do.  Want to vent I mean.  May I, Shirley?”

 

Reluctantly, the lone female senior partner sat up, wrapped her arms around her knees and said, “Yes, you may.”

 

Alan smiled his “I told you so” look at Carl and said, “Please stay, Carl.  It will save Shirley the trouble of recounting this conversation later.”  When she opened her mouth to protest, he said, “You’re almost married; I wouldn’t want you keeping secrets from your almost-husband on _my_ account, unless they were of a sexual nature involving you and me.”

 

Shirley rolled her eyes and said, “What’s on your mind, Alan Shore?”

“Do you know how old I am, Shirley?”

 

Shirley wasn’t expecting the question, “Excuse me, what did you say?”

 

Alan placed his right ankle on top of his left knee and repeated, “Do you know how old I am, Shirley?”

 

She thought for a moment and replied, “I believe you are forty-six.”

 

Alan grinned broadly.  “That’s right!” he exclaimed, “I’ll be 47 in five weeks!” 

Shirley said, “We’re both very happy for you.  What’s your point?”

 

Alan looked at his hands that now rested on the calf of his right leg and replied, “My point is: I am old enough to make my own decisions.  Twice this week, I have been questioned about my decision to stand with and by Denny as he…”

“Fights Mad Cow?” Carl interjected.

 

Alan nodded at him.  “Exactly,” he said, “both Denny and his doctor are acting like I think this illness is going to be a walk in the park.  I know it will be hard on me.  Why do they think I haven’t given this a lot of thought?  I have had many a sleepless night thinking about Denny’s illness and how it will affect us all.  _Especially_ me.  This is only going to end one way and I’ve made my peace with it.  I think that you, Shirley, are the only person I know who completely understands that.  Am I right?”

Shirley put her feet on the floor and stood up.  She moved closer to Alan, pulled him up from his chair and hugged him tightly.  “You are right,” she whispered in his ear, “I may have to fire you one day for your lack of ethics, but I will never doubt your abundance of love and loyalty to Denny Crane.  On that one thing, I assure you: I have your back.  And, so does Carl.”

 

At the mention of his name, Carl waved from his spot on the couch.  “Just do me a favor, Alan.  For whatever bizarre reason, Shirley wants Denny to give her away so, keep him in one piece for our wedding, OK?”

Alan moved away from Shirley, but not before laying a tender kiss on her cheek.  “I promise, Carl.  I’ve taken up enough of your time.  As you were, people; I’m going to meet my Significant Other for drinks.  Good night.”

 

“Alan!”

 

Denny’s voice startled Alan from his reverie.  He looked over to see Denny watching him through half-closed eyes.  “Yes, Denny.  What did you say?”

 

Denny grunted and took a long toke on his cigar.  “I said, you’ve been very quiet this evening.  What are you thinking about?”

 

Alan looked amused as he sipped his drink.  “Oh,” he said, “I was just thinking how fortunate I am to have people in my life who seem to care about how I live my life and whether or not I enjoy my life.”

 

Denny leaned in toward Alan and asked, “So, do you?  Enjoy your life, I mean.”

 

Alan leaned back in his chair, puffed his cigar, blew out a perfect smoke ring and smiled.  Then, he reached for his glass, drank deeply of his scotch and looked over at his best friend and said, “True happiness comes with a price tag, Denny.  I tell you here and now, the price I have to pay for this is a _bargain._ Do you understand?  A _bargain_.  Promise me that you will never doubt what I just said.”

Denny returned Alan’s smile, then looked out at the skyline and the sky itself.  “I promise.”

    


End file.
